


Never a Dull Moment!

by Ninja_Librarian



Series: The Many Adventures of Duckburg's Heroes! [14]
Category: Darkwing Duck (Cartoon 1991), DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M, holiday ficlets, lots of fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:54:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28297101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ninja_Librarian/pseuds/Ninja_Librarian
Summary: Duckburg is home to superheroes, adventurers, magic-users, and scientists. With a city brimming with so much excitement and calamity, there is never a dull moment!A collection of one-shots related to "The Many Adventures of Duckburg's Heroes!" Featuring missing moments, additional shenanigans, ship-focused vignettes, and much more!Currently up: Fenton and Gandra's third first date!
Relationships: Daisy Duck/Donald Duck, Drake Mallard/Launchpad McQuack, Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera/Gandra Dee
Series: The Many Adventures of Duckburg's Heroes! [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1478648
Comments: 15
Kudos: 61





	1. Three Hearts, Two Holidays, One Family!

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this idea for a little while, having an additional collection of one-shots that take place in my "The Many Adventures of Duckburg's Heroes!" universe. Things that maybe didn't quite make the cut for the final story due to length or relevancy, or things that I referenced that I later decided I wanted to go back into detail with, or just some fun things that I thought of that don't fit into a particular story-line. Usually, that translates to shippy fluff. Or family fluff. Or friendship fluff. A lot of fluff, guys. Calling this a collection of fluff will be accurate on so many levels.
> 
> First up is this little one-shot devoted to Drakepad and the Mallard-McQuack family. In short, I wanted to write more about their first holiday season together, much of which is alluded to in the first chapter of "Tis the Season to Get Dangerous!".
> 
> Merry Christmas, belated Happy Hanukkah, Joyous Kwanzaa and Happy New Year!

Darkwing Duck hated Black Friday. Had hated it when he worked retail, but somehow hated it even more as a superhero. It wasn’t even midnight yet, still Thanksgiving, and he’d broken up three fights while on patrol—all in lines outside of stores. He had been hit with purses, bitten, called an assortment of increasingly creative insults, and pelted with Thanksgiving leftovers. Again, not too different from when he worked retail, but apparently people got more vicious when they were up against a guy in a cape and not a scrawny undergrad who had made his coffee with an energy drink just to feel some semblance of being alive while working the most hated shift of the year.

The amount of fighting across the city from its determined citizens to save themselves a few bucks made Darkwing do something he almost never did: call Gizmoduck out in the middle of the night to help him out.

Fortunately, Gizmoduck didn’t mind when duty called. Somehow, together, they survived until mid-morning on Black Friday when most of the insanity had died down, though both were utterly exhausted.

“I’m not sure what’s worse,” Gizmoduck said as Darkwing joined him on a rooftop, carrying a drink carrier with two Starducks cups—already decked out in festive colors for the holiday season. “The waste of perfectly good sweet potato casserole, or knowing that no matter how much I scrub, the marshmallow residue is going to leave my armor sticky for days.”

“At least your armor cleans better than my cape,” Darkwing said, gesturing to the variety of stains on said cape. “I didn’t realize it was a tradition to bring the leftovers from a meal in which you proclaimed to be thankful for all that you have when you go sit in lines and start fights over who got the newest Waddlewatch first.”

“My mom says she’s had to bust up entire families having meals in those lines,” Gizmoduck said. “Every person in the family would bring something, basically a giant potluck, and they’d eat Thanksgiving dinner in line. Only became a problem when it came to saving places in line for latecomers and other people weren’t happy about being cut in front of.”

Darkwing snorted. “Yeah, I remember my first Black Friday in retail, I thought I was being hazed when one of my managers told me that she survived the year of the Great Duckburg Turkey Fire, when someone tried to—and failed to—fry a turkey while in those lines.”

Gizmoduck laughed. “Oh, I remember that! Well, vaguely. I was four, I think. If nothing else, I know the story well enough because both my parents called in to help reign in the chaos and M’ma tells the story so much. It’s become a Thanksgiving tradition for her to tell that story, I think.” He took a sip of his peppermint mocha, then asked, “Hey, what are you and Gosalyn and Launchpad planning on doing for Christmas?”

“Hadn’t really thought that far ahead,” Darkwing admitted, drinking his own coffee, humming in approval as he tasted the gingerbread syrup. “Why?”

“Well, earlier today—no, wait, yesterday, sorry—I had an idea for what to get my mom for Christmas while we were on videocall with my Abuela and the rest of the family,” Gizmoduck explained. “And that is, to take M’ma to see family for the holiday. We haven’t been able to go see everyone for the holidays—any holiday—since I was fifteen, and though Abuela has come here a couple of times for Christmas since, but it’s not the same, you know? I know M’ma’s got enough leave and her squad is supposed to have Christmas off this year anyway unless something catastrophic happens, but I didn’t want to start looking at plane tickets without talking to you first.”

“Because I’d be the only hero in town if you go over the river and through the woods to grandma’s house.” Darkwing said wryly.

“It’s more like a fifteen hour flight with two layovers then an hour and a half drive by car, but yes,” Gizmoduck said. “I know that’s asking a lot, it being your first Christmas with Gosalyn and Launchpad and all.”

Darkwing frowned slightly. “You’re right. It’s our first Christmas—and Hanukkah—together. And I haven’t even thought of anything.” He drank more of his coffee before adding, “Launchpad’s parents and Loopy want to come for Hanukkah, that much I know. They’d rather come here than us go to them. We talked about that a bit yesterday when we called them.”

“When is Hanukkah this year?” Gizmoduck asked.

“The first night is the twenty-second, so Hanukkah and Christmas will overlap this year,” Darkwing answered. “That’s actually perfect, since Ripcord and Birdie said that they wouldn’t be able to make it until the second or third night anyway, since they are booked for a show on the twenty-second. So, yeah, go ahead. Take some time off. You’ve got a sweet gift idea for your mom, and I know she’ll love it.”

“I owe you big time, Darkwing,” Gizmoduck said, grinning at him and Darkwing wasn’t sure if it was the midmorning light glinting off his visor or if he could really see Fenton’s eyes shining so bright.

“Keep that in mind, because next time, it’s your turn to do a coffee run,” Darkwing said teasingly, shaking his almost-empty cup in Gizmoduck’s direction.

That being said, Darkwing did have a lot to think about.

*****

Drake stumbled in the back door, yawning as he dropped his bag with his likely-ruined costume in the entryway.

“Honey, I’m home,” He called out sleepily.

Launchpad poked his head out from the kitchen. “Welcome home, DW. You’re home way later than I thought you would be for a quiet night of solo patrol.”

Drake made his way into the kitchen, sinking into a chair across from Gosalyn, who was apparently making leftover-turkey sandwiches with Launchpad. “Yeah, well, next year, when I say, ‘Oh, no, Launchpad, you stay home with Gosalyn, you did all the cooking, and everyone’s going to be in food comas anyway, what crime could possibly happen on Thanksgiving night?’, I want you to slap me. Preferably with a slice of pumpkin pie. Because that will give me flashbacks and I’ll remember every. Single. Detail.”

“Bad guys weaponized pumpkin pie?” Gosalyn asked, grabbing the materials to make another sandwich. “I mean, it works for Gizmoduck, so it was only a matter of time until criminals decided to use the same battle tactics.”

“It wasn’t a ‘bad guy’, per se. Rather, it was some woman with a ‘I want to speak to a manager’ haircut in line for a flat screen television,” Drake said, accepting the sandwich Gosalyn fixed for him. He quickly took a bite. “Man, this is good. Speaking of pies and Gizmoduck, though, I did call Fenton for back-up. He gave me an idea, later, after all the Black Friday line fights died down.”

“Uh oh,” Gosalyn said, smirking. “A tired, end-of-patrol Dad with an idea. This is pushing the limits of ‘Let’s get dangerous’.”

“Oh yeah?” Drake said, arching an eyebrow at her but unable to hide the small smile he had. “So you _don’t_ want to go get a Christmas tree today?”

“Christmas tree! Yes!” Gosalyn said, her eyes wide with excitement, throwing her fists in the air. “Can we go to one of those farms where you cut them down? I’ve only ever had one of those fake trees and really, really want a real one, please, Dad, please? Pretty please?”

“You want to use an axe more like it, but, yes, we can get a real tree, so long as you help keep it watered,” Drake told her. “Can you wait a few hours for me to take a shower and a nap?”

Gosalyn nodded and Launchpad spoke up, “That’ll give us time to figure out where to put it and measure so we know how tall a tree we can get. Maybe move some furniture around.”

They agreed on a time, close to sunset, and a few hours later they were all bundled up in warm clothes in the car. On the drive to the tree farm, located just outside of the city, Drake filled them in on Fenton’s Christmas plans.

“And since your parents and Loopy were wanting to come here for Hanukkah, Launchpad, I told him to go for it,” Drake explained. “And now that they know the Darkwing secret, they can stay with us instead of trying to find a hotel.”

“Sounds great,” Launchpad said. “As long as you know that my mom’s going to insist on doing all the cooking while she’s here. You thought what I made yesterday for Thanksgiving was good? You haven’t tried my mom’s latkes and sufganiot. It’s literally the best thing you will ever eat in your life.”

“I know what latkes are, but what’s sufganiot?” Gosalyn asked from the backseat.

“Doughnuts that are filled with jelly or custard and covered in powdered sugar,” Launchpad answered, turning around slightly to look at her. “Mom prefers to use jelly over custard, though, and she does them in different flavors.”

“Keen gear! I love doughnuts, I can’t wait!” Gosalyn exclaimed. Drake glanced in the rearview mirror as Gosalyn suddenly frowned, looking thoughtful. “Hey, I know we’re literally on our way to get a Christmas tree, but is it official that we’re celebrating both holidays?”

“I didn’t realize anything had to be official,” Drake commented.

“Given how much paperwork this year has involved, I think it’s safe to say we know better than anyone how many things have to be official,” Launchpad said.

“True,” Drake conceded. “Then, yes, Gosalyn, it’s official: we’re celebrating both Hanukkah and Christmas. We’re a two-holiday household.”

“Double the holidays, double the fun!” Launchpad declared.

“Precisely, Launchpad!” Drake said, putting on his turn signal to turn into the tree farm parking lot. “Now let the holiday fun commence!”

Launchpad and Gosalyn cheered as Drake parked the car.

Moments later, they were walking through the rows and rows of Christmas trees, strings of lights hoisted above the treetops to light the way. Gosalyn ran up ahead, going from tree to tree, dodging and weaving between rows before suddenly turning around and cupping her hands to the side of her mouth, shouting,

“Hey, come on, you slowpokes!”

“We’re coming,” Drake and Launchpad called back, though they made no effort to walk any faster, walking arm in arm at a much more leisurely pace, enjoying the scent of the trees, the sound of children laughing, and Gosalyn’s excitement and wonder.

“You know, I never once in my life dreamed I’d be doing this,” Drake said, his breath fogging up in front of his face.

“What? Getting a Christmas tree?” Launchpad asked.

Drake squeezed Launchpad’s arm slightly. “Walking through a Christmas tree farm, chasing after my daughter, a handsome stud of a boyfriend on my arm. It’s all… cozy. Like a dream. A crazy, beautiful dream.”

Launchpad suddenly stopped, and Drake did as well, looking up at the pilot in confusion. But Launchpad just smiled and put one hand on Drake’s hip, the other cupping the side of his face.

And then Launchpad leaned down and kissed him.

They broke apart, foreheads touching, a light snow falling down around them, snowflakes glistening under the lights, their breath coming out in small puffs of fog between them.

Launchpad’s smile grew. “Still feel like you’re dreaming?”

An easy, giddy smile spread across Drake’s face. “Always, and forever, so long as I’m with you.”

“ _Dad_! _Launchpad_! Stop out-sappng the trees, will ya? You’re embarrassing me!”

“We can’t help it that we _pine_ for each other!” Launchpad called back to Gosalyn.

“Yeah, just give us a second to _spruce_ up!” Drake added, turning around to smirk at Gosalyn, who was groaning and rolling her eyes as hard as any preteen could. Drake slipped his arm around Launchpad’s waist, settling his hand in the pocket of Launchpad’s jacket. (Hey, his fingers were cold and he wasn’t going to ruin a pair of gloves in the name of getting a Christmas tree.) “Alright, let’s go get ourselves a tree.”

*****

They should have known there’d be a catch when everything went so smoothly getting the tree. Everyone’s fingers were still attached, no one was harmed in the chopping of the tree or strapping it to the car, the ropes around the tree didn’t snap on the road. Heck, they had even grabbed hot cocoa on the way out and there wasn’t a drop spilled or tongue burnt.

It wasn’t until they got home, Launchpad and Drake wrestling the tree into the house through the door—because even with the weird netting stuff the tree farm people had put on the tree to slim it down for transport, it was still huge and fluffy—Gosalyn stood in the living room, realization dawning on her.

“Uh, Dad? Launchpad?” Gosalyn said.

“Yeah, Gos?” Drake asked with a grunt as he pushed on the tree to get it inside.

“We don’t have a place to put the Christmas tree.”

“Yeah, we do,” Launchpad argued, tugging on the tree with some effort. “You and I made the perfect spot for it this afternoon!”

“Okay. Then we don’t have anything to put the Christmas tree in.”

On that note, the tree finally made it inside, Launchpad landing on his rear and Drake falling face forward onto the tree.

“What do you mean by that?” Drake asked as he pushed himself up off the tree, brushing loose needles off his jacket.

“I mean,” Gosalyn said, sitting on the arm of the couch. “We don’t have a tree stand.”

Horror dawned on Drake in that moment. “Uh, that’s not the only thing we’re lacking.”

No lights. No ornaments. No decorations of any sort. No… anything.

Except for a Christmas tree.

That they couldn’t even put up.

Because they had no stand.

The family of three was very quiet for a very long moment as the situation they were in fully sank in.

Drake ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “I, uh, I guess we’re going shopping.”

*****

Drake didn’t think that he’d be at McDuck-Mart five times within twenty-four hours—on Black Friday. Yet, there he was, pushing the cart through the store as his civilian identity instead of his caped alter ego. At least as Drake Mallard, he could easily walk away from two people getting into it over some toy. Fortunately, the store was considerably less chaotic now, with only a few people around—mostly workers restocking shelves.

“I have no idea what I’m doing,” Drake admitted numbly as he, Launchpad, and Gosalyn stared at the vast and seemingly never ending displays of Christmas décor. “Where do we even begin?”

“Let’s start with the Hanukkah decorations!” Gosalyn suggested.

Drake couldn’t help but notice the small twinge of emotion on Launchpad’s face when she said that. He wasn’t quite sure what that emotion was, but it wasn’t a good one. “Uh, Gos, how about we focus on the Christmas stuff now?”

“It makes more sense to start with Hanukkah, since Hanukkah comes first!” Gosalyn said, looking around. Then she went over to a college-aged worker, who tugged an earbud out of his ear when Gosalyn tugged on his vest. “Excuse me, could you show us where the Hanukkah decorations are?”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” He said, setting down the box he was working from. “Follow me.”

Gosalyn followed him, gesturing for Drake and Launchpad to keep up. Launchpad’s teeth worried the bottom of his beak for a moment before he sighed and followed.

“Something the matter?” Drake asked.

“Well, you’ll see,” Launchpad said simply.

“Here you go,” The employee said when they got to the end of an aisle.

An endcap of an aisle.

On the other side of the main walkway.

Drake winced at the very small blue and gold display. That was seventy-five percent paper plates and napkins with menorahs and Stars of David on them, and the other twenty-five mostly made of cheap plastic. All hidden away from view. A realization made even sadder when you knew that one of the most important parts of Hanukkah is ensuring that the menorah is in a place where it can be seen, where the light can shine.

Drake was starting to see why Launchpad hadn’t wanted Gosalyn to find this.

Gosalyn was not impressed, that much was written all over her face.

“Where’s the rest of it?” She asked the young man, tilting her head up at him.

“Um, this is all of it,” The employee said, suddenly looking awkward.

“You mean to tell me,” Gosalyn said, sounding outraged, using both hands to gesture to the endcap. “That _this_ is the best that this supposedly fine establishment can do to contribute to celebrating Hanukkah?”

The poor employee’s eyes widened, unsure of what to say or do, but fully aware that he was not paid enough to deal with this.

“Thank you, we’ll take it from here,” Drake said quickly, allowing the poor guy to run for his life. Which he did.

“Seriously?” Gosalyn demanded. She spun around, gesturing to all of the Christmas decorations. “All of this for Christmas… and practically nothing for Hanukkah?”

“Hey, this is more than what was around when I was your age,” Launchpad said, kneeling down to her level, giving her a small smile as he ruffled her hair. “If you want to find good Hanukkah decorations, you’ve got to find artists. Not this mass-produced junk. Besides, the menorah is the most important decoration, and I’ve got one of those.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want the house to look like we care about Christmas more than Hanukkah,” Gosalyn said, folding her arms over her chest grumpily. “We celebrate two holidays equally, or we don’t celebrate them at all!”

“I second that,” Drake said, resting his arms on the push-bar of the cart, raising one hand in vote. “If we’re going to be a two-holiday household, we’re going to do it right. But Gosalyn and I have only celebrated Christmas before. We’re lost on the Hanukkah department.”

“No, we’re not, because we’re _in_ the Hanukkah department, and _you can’t get lost in an area the size of a postage stamp_!” Gosalyn declared, once again gesturing to the ‘display’ behind her with irritation.

Launchpad chuckled and pulled her into a hug. “You’re a good kid, Gos, and I can’t wait to celebrate Hanukkah with you. It means a lot to me that you’re excited about Hanukkah, and I want it to be great. But this year is about starting fresh for all of us. New decorations, new traditions, new everything. We’ve done a lot of ‘new’ this year, and a lot of it is big stuff. Maybe this is something we have to start small with.”

Gosalyn’s shoulders slumped, but she didn’t look sad. She was processing, thinking.

“Then I’ve got an idea,” She said. “How about we just focus on the tree this year and making it look nice?”

“I think we can do that,” Drake said, Launchpad nodding as well. “It’ll be like building a collection. We can add more stuff every year.”

“So what do you want to do with the tree this year?” Launchpad asked, rising to his feet again.

“I want it to represent both Hanukkah and Christmas,” Gosalyn said. “Could we do blue and white lights? And get ornaments that represent both holidays?”

“Lights, definitely, but finding ornaments for Hanukkah is going to be hard,” Launchpad said.

“Actually,” Drake said, pulling out his phone. “Now I’ve got an idea…”

Launchpad and Gosalyn got on either side of him as Drake tapped away on his phone. A moment later, Drake was on Egretsy and had typed in the search bar “Hanukkah ornament”.

“You said that if you want to find good Hanukkah decorations, you have to find artists,” Drake said, passing his phone over to Launchpad, allowing him to scroll through the results, Gosalyn dashing over to be on Launchpad’s other side.

“Over five thousand results,” Gosalyn whispered, her eyes wide and sparkling. “Ooh, I like that one!”

“Yeah, so do I,” Launchpad said as his gaze lingered on a silver Star of David.

“How about we get some lights and a tree stand, then go home and look through these on my laptop with more hot cocoa?” Drake suggested, looking at Launchpad, a smile spreading across his face.

Launchpad wrapped an arm around Drake’s waist and pressed a kiss to the side of his face. “I think that sounds better than a dream.”

*****

A few hours later, the tree had been wrestled into the stand, fluffed, and then decorated in lights—with only one minor mishap that involved Drake basically getting tied to the tree with lights thanks to Gosalyn’s enthusiasm. They’d ordered a pizza for dinner while they worked, then spent time curled up on the couch together with hot chocolate and Drake’s laptop, having come up with a plan for more decorations.

Drake tapped ‘place order’ on Egretsy and smiled as the screen changed, declaring his order placed. He closed his laptop and glanced over at Gosalyn, who was starting to fall asleep on his arm.

“Time for bed,” Drake said.

“But Dad,” Gosalyn groaned, then said through a yawn, “I’m not tired…”

“Come on, young lady,” Drake said, nudging her slightly. “Upstairs.”

“I’ve got her,” Launchpad said, getting up from Drake’s other side, carefully picking Gosalyn up, her head resting on his shoulder.

“Thanks, LP,” Drake said, setting aside his laptop. They shared a smile when Gosalyn let out a small snore. Launchpad carried Gosalyn upstairs, and Drake pulled back the covers on Gosalyn’s bed for him to lay her down.

Launchpad set her on the bed and pressed a kiss to Gosalyn’s head, whispering, “Good night, kiddo.”

“Night, Gosalyn,” Drake whispered, also giving Gosalyn a kiss as he tucked her blankets around her.

They were halfway out of the room when they heard Gosalyn mumbled, “Love you guys…”

“We love you, too, Gosalyn,” Drake said softly, pulling the door closed. His hand lingered on the doorknob for a moment, then he went back down the stairs, lost in thought.

He came back into the living room, where Launchpad was starting to gather the trash from the evening’s adventure. Drake stepped over to stand in front of the tree, just staring at it in thought for a few minutes, before a pair of strong arms wrapped around his waist.

“I know that look,” Launchpad said in a low voice in Drake’s ear.

“I’m thinking,” Drake said, placing his hands over Launchpad’s.

“Trust me, I know you’re thinking. The real question is, about what?”

“Gosalyn. I’m… Well, we talked a lot today about how new everything is to us. It’s going to be the first Hanukkah for me and Gos, and while I know you celebrate Christmas with friends, this will be your first time celebrating Christmas with us. It’s our first holiday season as a couple, and our first with Gosalyn. And…”

“And?” Launchpad prompted when Drake’s voice trailed off with a sad sigh.

“It’s also Gosalyn’s first Christmas without her grandfather,” Drake said softly.

“I hadn’t thought about that,” Launchpad admitted. “That’s got to be rough on the kid. She’s a tough one, but the first holiday without someone you love? No one is that tough.”

“She loved her grandpa,” Drake said, slumping back against Launchpad’s chest. “He was everything to her. And everything I’ve ever been told about Professor Waddlemeyer eventually comes back around to how much he adored Gosalyn, how she was his whole world. He was the only family she had for most of her life. And just because I’m her dad now doesn’t mean that she doesn’t still have a lot of thoughts and feelings about her parents. I just don’t… we’ve got something new and beautiful here, the three of us. But I don’t want her to feel like she has to completely erase her past, you know?”

They were quiet for a moment, both staring at their tree—a tree that would soon be bedecked in the ornaments they had chosen together, as a family, to create a representation of their family and what they celebrate together.

“Hey, Drake,” Launchpad said quietly. “Do you remember if there was anything in all of Gos’s paperwork about the stuff from her old house?”

“No,” Drake said. “Why?”

“I’ve got an idea, but I think we’ll need to talk to Mr. McD.”

“What idea do you have that requires us bringing in our boss?”

Launchpad rested his chin on top of Drake’s head, and even though Drake couldn’t see him, he knew that the pilot was smiling.

“Because Mr. McD,” Launchpad said. “Is an expert in finding lost treasures.”

“Lost trea—?” Drake cut himself off, twisting around in Launchpad’s arms to look up at him. “You think we should track down Gosalyn’s old Christmas stuff?”

“I think it’d be a good way to incorporate Gosalyn’s past into her future, our future,” Launchpad said. “To honor and respect that past and the people who ultimately brought Gosalyn into the world and into our lives.”

Drake’s eyes filled with tears as he smiled. “I think that’s beautiful, Launchpad. We’ll call Mr. McDuck first thing in the morning. He’s bound to have some idea of where to start looking.” Drake wrapped his arms around Launchpad, laying his head on the taller man’s broad chest. “I know Thanksgiving was yesterday, but I don’t think I said this then: I’m so grateful that the universe led us to each other. I love you so much.”

“I think the same thing, every day,” Launchpad said. He reached underneath Drake’s chin, tilting his head back some so that they could look each other in the eye. “And you don’t have to say it. Because I see it in your eyes. Every day.”

With that, he leaned down and kissed Drake, long, deep, and passionate.

And when they broke apart, both smiling, out of breath, Drake tugging Launchpad by the wrist to the couch, where they proceeded to spend the rest of the night, alternatively kissing and talking and just basking in each other’s presence and—finally—succumbing to sleep, they realized something.

The dream had ended.

And, as it turned out, reality was much better.


	2. It's a Date!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set between the end of "Electric Boogaloo!" and the beginning of "Child's Play!", it's Gandra and Fenton's third first date! Third time's the charm, right?
> 
> Yeah, I tried to have this done for Valentine's Day. Didn't happen. "Beaks in the Shell!" gave me a big boost of Fendra-loving serotonin, though, so here we are.

“I’ve got good news, Suit.”

Fenton looked up the calculations he was running to see Gandra leaning on the desk across from him. “Uh, good news about what?”

“As it turns out,” Gandra said. “The Sabrewings are going out tonight. Some get-together for the faculty in Kevin’s department at the university. And he and Raymond are taking the girls with them. So I told them that I wouldn’t be home until late, because I’d be here at the lab with you and Gearloose.”

“We’re working late?” Fenton said, his brow furrowed. He would have thought he’d remember that, he was pretty good about remembering when they actually planned to work late instead of it happening— Then it clicked. He grinned. “Ah, yes. We’ll be working late. Here. At the lab. Together.”

“Totally not going on a date,” Gandra said, a hint of laughter in her voice.

“Nope,” Fenton said. “Especially not a first date. Huh. Well, I guess it’s our third date.”

“I don’t think we should count the first two.”

“We’ll call those trial dates. So. We’ll most definitely not be going on our third first date tonight.”

“Exactly. Though, if we were, third time is the charm, right?” Gandra said, also grinning. She gave him a wink and said, “Pick me up at six.”

“It’s not a date!” Fenton called after her, unable to stop smiling.

Yes, third time had to be the charm.

Right?

*****

Gandra was running a brush through her hair when she froze at hearing the sound of the door opening, accompanied with the sound of jangling keys.

That was weird. The doors were locked. Fenton didn’t have a key, but that was definitely the sound of…

Gandra dropped the brush and rushed out of her room, stopping halfway down the stairs when she saw the Sabrewings enter the house, carrying boxes of pizza.

“You’re back?” Gandra said, then mentally kicked herself. Yes, of course they were back. This wasn’t some hallucination. A nightmare, maybe, but not a hallucination.

“The room the event was to be held in had a pipe burst,” Kevin explained as he closed the front door behind them. “We didn’t have anywhere else to move the event to, so we came home.”

“And brought pizza!” Lena said, pulling out a breadstick from the box in her hands.

Drat.

Raymond frowned at Gandra. “I thought you said that you would be working late at the lab.”

Double drat.

“And, if I’m not mistaken, have you changed clothes since this morning?” Violet asked.

Drat to infinity.

“I…” Gandra said, leaning casually against the wall, folding her arms over her chest. “Yes, yes, I am still working late. And yes I changed clothes. There was an, uh, accident. At the lab. Requiring a change of clothing. But now I’ve gotten different clothes, and I’m actually about to leave and—”

“Wait, why did you put on nice clothes if you’re just going back to the place where your other clothes had an accident?” Lena asked, frowning.

Ah, phooey…

“That is… a funny story,” Gandra said. “Hilarious, really. I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow. I’ve got to get back to the lab now, so I’ll—”

And at that moment, the doorbell rang.

“I’ll get it,” Violet said, rushing towards the door.

“No!” Gandra said, but it was too late.

Violet opened the front door, and tilted her head up.

Fenton—wearing the suit from their first first date that Gandra wouldn’t tell him he looked nice in but definitely thought it many, many times and carrying a bouquet of roses—blinked and looked down at Violet in surprise.

And then everyone turned to look at Gandra.

‘Phooey’ was not a strong enough word to reflect how Gandra felt.

Lena broke the silence, pointing between Fenton and Gandra with a half-eaten breadstick. “Are you two, like, going on a date?”

Fenton and Gandra met each other’s eyes for a long moment, then Gandra sighed. “Yes. Yes we are.”

Violet’s eyes brightened. “Interesting…”

“Rad,” Lena said with a nod and another bite of her breadstick.

Kevin and Raymond exchanged a glance.

“Gandra,” Kevin said. “May we speak to you in private for a moment?”

Gandra resisted the urge to groan, but nodded. She followed Kevin and Raymond into Kevin’s study, flopping down in the chair in front of the desk.

“Look, I’m sorry I lied,” Gandra said. “So what’s the punishment? Grounded? Going to take my phone? Extra chores for a week?”

“Gandra, you are twenty-five, not fifteen, so even if we were going to punish you, we lack the authority to do so,” Raymond said as he stood behind Kevin’s chair, placing his hands on the back.

“We are, however, disappointed that you lied to us,” Kevin added.

“Oof, ‘not mad just disappointed’? I think I’d rather be grounded,” Gandra said sarcastically. Though, okay, maybe that did sting. Just a little.

“Gandra, it is not our intention to make you feel like a prisoner in our household,” Kevin said, leaning forward with his arms on his desk. “However, we would like to know your reasons for lying about your plans for the evening.”

Gandra huffed slightly, not looking at either of them. “Look, it’s just… Fenton and I agreed to try this whole dating thing. And our track record for dates isn’t that great. So we were trying to keep it low-key. We didn’t want anyone to know, in case it didn’t work out. The less people involved in our personal business, the better. Especially when it comes to his mom. You know. Given that she hates my guts.”

“That is completely understandable,” Raymond said with a slight nod. “And well thought out. However, there was one aspect that particularly is concerning to us: the deception about where you would be tonight.”

“I said I was sorry, won’t happen again,” Gandra grumbled.

“Gandra, we do not want apologies, but we do want you to understand something,” Kevin said. “Raymond and I, as well as Lena and Violet, want to see you successfully leave F.O.W.L. We believe that you are worthy of trust, and that you’re a good person. We know for certain that you are a smart, capable young woman, and for that reason, I want you to answer this question: what would have happened tonight if something drastic occurred and McDuck and Mrs. Beakley decided to check your whereabouts and confer with Raymond and I? Or Dr. Gearloose for that matter?”

Realization hit Gandra. “I wouldn’t be anywhere near the lab. Where I said I would be.”

“Precisely,” Raymond said. “Which would be a sign of going against your word towards the agreements that were made regarding your trial period for leaving F.O.W.L. Even though Mr. Crackshell-Cabrera would have been with you at the time, no one would have known that. The worst would have been assumed, that you had returned to F.O.W.L or were further providing them information. Could it have been cleared up later? Perhaps. But not before giving people an opportunity to continue to assume the worst of you. Not before giving those people another opportunity to doubt you and your word.”

“I’m sorry,” Gandra said. And she meant it this time.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Kevin said, rising to his feet. “It is just something that we wanted you to take into consideration. We understand that the current arrangements limit your privacy, and Raymond and I will do all we can to protect that for you so long as you are under our roof.”

“Bearing in mind that we are also aware that you had no means of knowing that,” Raymond added. “Circumstances have not presented an opportunity to discuss this topic. However, I believe we can discuss this more at a later time.” The faintest hint of a smile crossed his muzzle. “After your date with Mr. Crackshell-Cabrera.”

Gandra followed Raymond and Kevin back out to the living room, where Fenton sat awkwardly on the couch, being stared down by Violet and Lena.

“Girls, will you excuse yourselves to the kitchen for a few moments, please?” Raymond asked.

“Aw, really?” Lena groaned as Violet rose to her feet, being compliant.

“I’ll put these in a vase,” Violet declared, taking the bouquet of flowers out of Fenton’s hands and walking towards the kitchen.

“Go eat some dinner while it is hot—do not just eat breadsticks, Lena,” Kevin said, making a shooing motion. Lena groaned again but followed Violet out of the living room.

“So, uh,” Fenton said, getting to his feet. “Are we—”

“Sit down,” Kevin and Raymond both said sharply.

Fenton, wide-eyed, complied quickly.

Gandra’s jaw dropped. What the heck was going on?

It was like a switch had been flipped. Raymond stood back some, arms crossed over his chest, his stance deliberately making him look bigger, like a threat. Meanwhile, Kevin paced in front of Fenton, back straight, arms tucked behind him. Then, suddenly, Kevin paused and turned to face Fenton.

“Well?” Kevin said. “And what are your intentions with Miss Dee?”

“My… My intentions?” Fenton repeated, glancing across the room over at Gandra, hoping for some clue as to what was going on, but she was just as lost as he was.

“Yes, Mr. Crackshell-Cabrera, your intentions,” Kevin said, sharply the last words. “Do you require clarification on what that entails? If not, why have you not answered the question yet?”

“I, uh, we hadn’t exactly made solid plans,” Fenton said nervously, running a hand through his hair. “Things don’t go well when we made plans in the past, but I was going to suggest The Dragon Palace. You know, the Asian fusion place on Main for dinner? It’s nice and—”

“Ah, yes, we know exactly the restaurant of which you speak,” Raymond said, stepping forward to stand beside Kevin. “Low lighting. Large booths with privacy screens between each booth. And, perhaps the best feature of all, an electronic system so that the diners can summon waitstaff only when the diners wish for service. All a perfect set-up for some,” Raymond arched an eyebrow at Fenton as he snarled out, “ _Canoodling_.”

Fenton paled. “Ca-Canoodling?”

“Make note of that, dear, his intentions for Miss Dee _do_ include canoodling,” Kevin said with a slight nod and an indignant sniff.

Raymond nodded and pulled out a notebook, starting to write in it.

“Yes. No. Wait, no, I—” Fenton started to say, but apparently couldn’t find the right words and instead looked desperately over at Gandra again.

Gandra groaned and put her head in her hands. “I thought you two said that you weren’t going to punish me. Something about being twenty-five, not fifteen?”

“This is not a punishment,” Raymond said, tucking his notebook back into his pocket. “This is due diligence. Not to mention, this is our opportunity to inform Mr. Crackshell-Cabrera that if he does not have you home by eleven o’clock on the dot, we will simply have to assume that his intentions are more nefarious than he is currently attempting to coerce us into believing, in which case we will have no other choice but to hunt him down and destroy him.”

“That being said, if you think that you shall be even five seconds late, do send us a text message,” Kevin added with a wave of his hand and a glare at Fenton. “We will be waiting up, one way or another.”

“Yes, sirs, Professor and Captain Sabrewing, sirs,” Fenton said quickly. “I’ll have her home by eleven.”

Kevin and Raymond both nodded, seemingly pleased.

“Then we have delayed your date long enough,” Raymond said. “Go forth and enjoy each other’s company.”

Gandra and Fenton chose to make a break for it.

“Your dads are scary,” Fenton whispered as they walked out the door.

“I’m sorry, have you met your mother?” Gandra hissed back.

“Yes, which is why I know to be afraid of them. The two of them together is equal to one of M’ma.”

That, Gandra could admit, was fair.

It wasn’t until they were turning off of the Sabrewings’ street that she realized that she hadn’t corrected Fenton when he referred to Kevin and Raymond as her dads.

*****

They did end up at The Dragon Palace, but both Gandra and Fenton were pretty certain they freaked out the poor hostess when she didn’t even get to finish asking if they would prefer a booth or a table when they both practically yelled ‘Table!’ at her.

As comfy as those booths looked, the word ‘canoodling’ was still echoing in their burning ears.

The first part was easy, once they were settled at a table with menus. They just talked about what they were interested in ordering and what sounded good and what they might like to try together. But soon the order was placed and the menus were returned to the waiter, and they were left alone.

“So,” Fenton said, his hand on his glass of water, rubbing his thumb through the condensation that had gathered on the side of the glass. “This shouldn’t be this weird, right?”

“It probably would have been less weird if it weren’t for Kevin and Raymond and their TV sitcom dad routine,” Gandra said.

“Yeah, but it probably would have still been weird,” Fenton said, shrugging slightly. “Uh, I know you said that you don’t have much relationship experience. And I don’t either, so I don’t really know what the frame of reference is here or what the expectations are. I mean, I’ve been on dates before, but those were way different than… this, you know? Even with us trying for a fresh start and everything, we’ve been working together and already having some of those conversations that usually happen on a first date, those ‘tell me about yourself’ kind of things.”

“Yeah, we kind of have already gotten over some of the easier ones,” Gandra agreed. She frowned. “Well, at least some of the ones that first come to mind, the stuff you first want to know.” She hesitated, then asked, “Hey, so, if you’ve been on dates, have they been with, uh, just other ducks?”

This caught Fenton’s attention; it wasn’t unusual for people to date outside of their species, especially avians. So he suspected that this had a deeper meaning.

“For the most part, yes,” Fenton said, nodding. “What about you? Have you dated mostly roosters?”

He chose that word carefully; he could have said ‘chickens’, which was socially acceptable and covered all genders, but he wanted to see what her response was.

“Yeah, roosters,” Gandra said, glancing down at the charger plate at her setting, adjusting it slightly as she added in a quieter tone, “And hens.” She glanced up. “Is… Is that going to be an issue?”

“No,” Fenton said quickly, moving his hand so fast that he nearly toppled over his water glass, quickly trying to right it before he spilled too much water on the tablecloth. “Not at all. Can I ask, though, what you consider yourself as? Bisexual or pansexual or something else? I mean, if you don’t want to say, that’s fine, too, that doesn’t change my answer, so no pressure or—”

“Bi,” Gandra said, smiling slightly, suddenly much more at ease. “I’m bisexual.”

“That’s cool,” Fenton said, nodding. “Um, is that a correct response? Because that sounded like a terrible response.”

“It’s fine,” Gandra said. “Some people are less cool with it than others. It’s not usually something I usually bring up on a first date, though, but since we’re going for the ‘completely open and honest with each other’ route, I thought you should know.”

“Well, thank you. For trusting me,” Fenton said. “Unless, of course, you felt like it was something you _had_ to tell me, again for the ‘being completely honest with each other’ thing, in which case—”

“I trust you, Suit,” Gandra interrupted. “I felt like I could tell you even before we agreed to try this whole dating thing for real. Talking to you is easy. Telling you my secrets is easy. ”

“I’d like to say it’s the same for me with you, but, as you already know, I’m horrible at keeping my own secrets,” Fenton said with a slightly self-deprecating shrug.

Gandra smirked. “Just with one particular secret. When it comes to everything else, there’s a lot I don’t know.” She ran her thumb over the edge of her water glass, saying, “That was actually one of the biggest clues I was into you, you know. That I wanted to know more about you, beyond what existed in the file Beaks gave me—most of which was garbage and totally unhelpful, by the way, if you must know. Which sounds totally creepy, now that I’ve said that out-loud.” She groaned and pressed her thumb between her eyes. “I’m not usually this awkward on first dates, I swear.”

“It’s okay, if it makes you feel any better, I’m awkward all the time.” Fenton said with a small laugh. “But I’m usually the only one. It gets worse when I’m nervous, which you’ve probably already figured out. And, I’ll be honest, I’m way more nervous about this first date than our other two first dates.”

“Can’t blame you there,” Gandra said. “Considering how bad the first two were. Beaks, then Negaduck and Morgana, Huey and Webby getting kidnapped, then Darkwing got stabbed, and both date locations getting destroyed… We probably should be concerned about who will crash this date.”

“That’s not what worries me,” Fenton said. “I’m worried that, well, I’m worried about a lot of things as a result of this date, and bad guys crashing isn’t one of them. Bad guys I can handle. What I’m afraid of is that I’m going to say or do something stupid, and absolutely terrified that, after this date, even if I don’t mess it up somehow, you’ll realize you were wrong and that I’m not someone you could see yourself falling in love with and never want to go out with me again.”

Gandra smiled at him. “What does it say about us that I’m afraid of the exact same thing?”

Fenton smiled and reached across the table, placing his hand over hers. “I hope it means that means that we’re both committed to trying to get it right, no matter how missteps we take along the way.”

“And realizing we’re going to make them,” Gandra said, nodding slightly. “I suspect we’re going to make a lot of them, too. Both the normal ones that come with any new relationship, and the ones that are unique to, well, us.” She took a sip of her water, then, as she lowered her glass, added, “Plus, we’ve both established that we have zero idea what we’re doing for a number of reasons. Means we’ll have to make it up as we go along.”

“But we’re also scientists,” Fenton said. “Which means we know how to make and test hypotheses. And if your hypothesis doesn’t at first succeed…”

“Adjust the parameters and try again.” Gandra finished.

“I don’t know about you,” Fenton said. “But I’m not one to give up after just three failed attempts of getting something right. Not when I know deep down it can happen. If I put in the work to get it right.”

“I’m not a quitter,” Gandra said. “Never have been, never will be. So I guess we know how this is going to go.”

Fenton smiled at her again. “Then we really had nothing to be afraid of.”

Instantly, everything between them felt different. Easier. More relaxed.

“No,” Gandra said, an easy smile spreading over her face. “We really didn’t.”

*****

Miracle of all miracles, the restaurant was still standing when they left, Fenton didn’t have to leave for an emergency involving Gizmoduck, and there were no other surprises.

“I had a really nice time tonight, Suit,” Gandra said, tugging Fenton’s jacket around her tighter slightly as they walked, hand in hand, up the porch steps of the Sabrewing’s house—with five minutes to spare to Kevin and Raymond’s curfew.

They had gone for a walk in the park after dinner, and Fenton noticed she had been shivering, so—gentleman that he was—he gave her his jacket. Which was a mistake on his part, really, because she was reluctant to give it back; it was warm and soft and comfortable. _Like Fenton_ , she thought. It even smelled like him. But they were way too early into this for her to start stealing his clothes, so she knew she’d be returning it to him. Soon. Eventually.

“I did, too,” Fenton said, smiling at her. He reached out and took her hand, squeezing it gently, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles.

They stood in front of the door, not quite ready to say good-night, but both looking longingly at the other.

Not quite ready to say good-night, but very ready to have a good-night kiss.

“I really want to kiss you,” Fenton whispered. “Can I kiss you?”

Gandra nodded. _Please,_ she silently begged.

Fenton reached up and cupped her cheek, leaning down, bringing her close, slowly, carefully. Gandra, ever impatient, reached up and put a hand on the back of his neck, at the base of his skull, gently threading her fingers through his hair and pushing him down towards her.

They met in the middle, the kiss slow at first, testing, almost teasing. And then the kiss grew deeper, faster, and passionate. It was like a wildfire, spreading. It was—

“Oi. Get a room, you’re quickly getting into PG-13 territory and Violet’s not old enough to watch those movies.”

Gandra and Fenton practically leapt apart, looking up to see Lena and Violet hanging out of their bedroom window, both smiling down at them.

“Shouldn’t you two be in bed?” Gandra retorted, wishing she had been less flustered to come up with something wittier.

“Technically, we are in bed,” Violet said.

“We just pushed our bed up to the window,” Lena said.

“Ergo, we are in bed, at our bedtime. We have not left the bed since the agreed upon bedtime. We just simply have not gone to sleep.”

“You, on the other hand, are the one who is pushing curfew.”

“Though may we advise that you not tempt fate regarding our fathers’ warning to hunt Fenton down and destroy him? While I do think that it is largely an empty threat, perhaps it would be better to not test that thought this evening.”

Gandra rolled her eyes and looked at Fenton, reluctantly shrugging off his jacket. “I think I have to call it a night.”

“Right,” Fenton said, accepting his jacket. He smiled a bit bashfully at her and suggested, “Perhaps we can meet up for lunch tomorrow?”

Gandra smiled. “Why, Fenton, are you asking me out on a second date?”

“I am, I am indeed, since this first one went so well,” Fenton said.

Gandra’s smile grew and she pressed a kiss to his cheek, whispering in his ear, “It’s a date.”

Fenton grinned and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “It’s definitely a date.”

“Text me when you get home,” Gandra told him.

“Will do,” Fenton said, giving her a final wave as he retreated from the porch. Gandra watched him pull out of the driveway before she stepped inside the house.

“And how was your evening with The Boyfriend?”

Gandra nearly jumped when she heard Raymond’s voice, looking over to see Kevin and Raymond sitting in their favorite chairs, side-by-side, each with a book in their laps and a mug of tea on the side table between them. They both looked at her expectantly.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Gandra said reflexively.

Kevin sipped his tea, his eyes sparkling as he said, “Yet.”

That, she couldn’t deny.

She and Fenton still had a long way to go. But they were finally off to a good start.

“Do you have further plans to see each other?” Raymond asked.

“Yeah. Tomorrow, actually. Lunch. Haven’t figured out where or when yet,” Gandra said as she made her way towards the stairs. She put her foot on the first one and paused, turning to look over her shoulder as she said, “But you two probably knew that. You were spying on me and Fenton, weren’t you?”

“We would never infringe upon your personal privacy in that manner!” Kevin said, putting a hand to his chest, looking affronted. “Now if, say, we thought we heard a noise coming from just beyond the front door, it would be different.”

“Yes, then we would need to investigate,” Raymond said with a nod. “And if we happened to linger for a moment or two, assessing the level of the perceived threat and taking time to ascertain that it was, indeed a threat.”

“Which, of course, it wasn’t.” Kevin added quickly.

“Yes, though we required just a few moments of listening intently to be entirely certain,” Raymond said.

Gandra smiled and shook her head. “You guys are crazy. Good night.”

“Good night, Gandra,” Kevin said.

“Oh, and on your way up, would you be so kind as to tell the girls that it is now time for them to be both in bed _and_ asleep?” Raymond asked.

Gandra smirked. “My pleasure.”

After banging on Lena and Violet’s door and telling them to go to sleep, eliciting a laugh from Lena, Gandra went into her own room, closing the door behind her. She smiled when she saw that there was a vase of roses on the bedside table. It was nice of Violet to take care of those for her, to bring them up for Gandra.

Gandra got close to the vase, inhaling the scent of the roses. It hadn’t occurred to her until now that Fenton was her first date to bring her flowers. And of course they were roses; that was Fenton, a classic romantic.

As she changed for bed, a message from Fenton appeared in the corner of her eye on her eyebots. He made it home safe, and told her once more that he had a good time with her tonight, and that he couldn’t wait to see her tomorrow. All signed off with a little tiny red heart emoji. Then quickly followed by a panicked stream of texts, coming in so fast Gandra could barely keep up, her smile growing wider as she read them.

**I didn’t mean to send that emoji.**

**My finger slipped.**

**It was an accident, I swear.**

**I’m not trying to move too fast. I know we want to take this slow.**

**Am I really freaking out over sending you a heart emoji?**

**Maybe I’m overthinking this.**

**I mean, it’s just an emoji, right?**

**Unless it means more.**

**I don’t know, I’m not good at this.**

**Sorry, you probably don’t want to be spammed with texts.**

**I’ll shut up.**

**Good night.**

Before Fenton, she scoffed at this sort of thing. Thought it didn’t exist in real life, only in the movies. Not just gestures like this, but this kind of love.

_Love…_

No, they weren’t in love. Not yet. Maybe?

Gandra plucked a rose from the bouquet and tucked it behind her ear. Then she picked up her phone and took a selfie, sending it to him with a message.

**I can’t wait to see you tomorrow, too, Suit. Thank you again for the flowers. Goodnight.**

She signed it off with two emojis: one pale blue heart and one bright red heart.

They weren’t moving too fast or too slow. They were moving at just the right speed.

Yes, third time was definitely the charm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's next? I don't know. But it's never a dull moment in Duckburg, that's for sure.


End file.
